


In which Campbell reads poetry

by Electric_Monet



Category: Good Omens Extended Universe, Takin' Over the Asylum, Underworld (Movies)
Genre: Buzzfeed Unsolved References, Constantine Kavafy, Fergus lives, Friendship, Hurt No Comfort, John Mulaney References, M/M, Melancholy, Poetry, Record shopping, Sad boi hours, book stores, no beta we just die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25822489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electric_Monet/pseuds/Electric_Monet
Summary: Campbell buys new records, a poetry collection and goes to bed thinking about Lucian.
Relationships: Campbell Bain & Fergus MacKinnon, Campbell Bain/Lucian (Underworld)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	In which Campbell reads poetry

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, darlings! Have some Campbell/Lucian content, as a treat!

It was one of those mornings where Campbell felt more energetic than ever. It wasn't because he was manic, it was because he was inspired, inspired to seize the day...also Fergus was taking him record shopping for the asylum radio station. They had raised a lot of money through charity events at the hospital and now it was time to expand the station's repertoire, new singles, new albums, new bands and of course all of his fellow looneys' picks. 

After taking his meds he went down to the parking lot where Fergus was waiting for him.

The older man smiled and waved at him when he saw him. 

"Fergus!", he exclaimed, running towards him and flinging himself at the man with so much force that he almost knocked them both over, "You are really here! And look at you, all poshed up, I cannae believe it!"

"Come on Campbell, I haven't changed that much", he argued, "just a haircut and a proper shave"

The younger man pulled back and gave him a toothy smile.

"Anno, but still, you are looking good, mate, of course nowhere near as handsome as me."

"Oh piss off, you weapon, we are going to be late", he said and gave him a playful shove. It was nice being together with Campbell after everything that happened back at the asylum, he was just glad he could leave it all behind and start a new.

The two men got into the car and drove off to the city.

…

The ride was short, filled with laughter and music blasting from the car's poor sound system. Turns out that if you mess with the radio settings long enough, you could make it talk. As always it didn't occur to Campbell that he was just flipping through radio frequencies really really fast and sometimes the radio picked up random words that together made sense but he was convinced that ghosts were trying to communicate with them.

When they reached the shop, Fergus parked his car near the entrance and told the younger man that he had to take care of some business but he would join him eventually, although he was positive that he could manage without him for half an hour.

Campbell rushed inside the record store and started digging through the stacks.

October Country, check.

Rick Astley, check.

Echo and the Bunnymen, check.

Nirvana? Well...why not? Check!

Talking Heads, Depeche Mode, Bowie, ABBA, U2, Tears for Fears, New Order, The Clash, Simple Minds, The Who, the Doors, check!

Black, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Blur, The Breeders, Sonic Youth, Velvet Underground, Ramones, check, check, check!

He went up to the cash register and paid the cashier, he couldn't wait to get back to the radio station and show Eddie the new additions to their collection. Finally, they could play something other than the Beatles, but before he left something caught his eye.

Blank cassette tapes, the ones you could use to dedicate a playlist to a special someone. He had the necessary equipment at the station all he needed to do was pick out the songs. Well...he could do that at the radio station. In the end, he bought a 12 pack and left the shop.

It really was a wonderful morning, the sun was out and it was practically begging Campbell to seize the day. Well, what better way to do it than to get lost in the small bookshop down the corner. He wasn't really a fan of reading but he did enjoy poetry (especially if the poems were short). It was almost fascinating how a poem six or seven lines long could keep his mind occupied, it was like solving a puzzle only the pieces were words.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw a very flushed Fergus approach him.

"Fergus! I'm done with the records! Wait, is that lipstick on your cheek?", Campbell moved his head closer to get a better view, "It is! Who's the gal? Is she here? Can I see her?"

"Campbell, calm down, I just helped the girl in the mini market fix her fridge, nothing special", he mumbled.

"Then why did she kiss you?"

"I don't know…"

"You brick, ask for her number next time! Girls don't go around kissing any stranger that fixes their fridge!"

"Alright, alright, I'll do it! Now do you want to go back or did you have something else in mind?", Fergus asked while avoiding eye contact with Campbell.

"Yes, I wanna go to the bookstore, come on the sooner we go the better!", the younger man exclaimed and practically dragged Fergus by the hand.

…

They stayed there until the shop had to close for the evening.

Campbell managed to buy one poem collection by Constantine Cavafy after too much time digging through the stacks of books and getting sidetracked by the store's manager (a cat) that really wanted to play with him.

They walked back to the car in silence, enjoying the company of each other. They got inside and drove back to the asylum.

…

The two friends said their goodbyes and parted ways. Campbell rushed to the studio and placed the new records near the mixing table, as Rosalie would be really disappointed if she found out he tried to organise them by himself and sat down on the chair to think about the playlist he would make.

"What should I put in it, what should I put in it…", he thought to himself trying not to grin.

Then, it came to him in the voice of a radio announcer from the 1930s whos been sitting in a room on a chair for 28 years eating saltine crackers. 

'How about you burn the song 'what's new pussycat' by Tom Jones seven times, then put one 'it's not unusual', but get this, after that burn the first song another 11 times, trust me, kid, it's going to be hilarious', said the voice and Campbell found himself agreeing with it. But that would take at least one hour and he wanted to read his book. So he closed the radio station and run to his bedroom. 

From his window, he could see the sun setting at its usual pace leaving behind colourful splashes of colour on the sky. Oh, how he wished for Lucian to be there with him at that very moment. Maybe he would talk about his recent trip or, even better, sneak him out of the asylum and take him somewhere else, somewhere they would not be distributed by others, and just have fun. Whether it be kissing or cuddling or just plain hanging out together, he didn't care, he just wanted to be near him again.

Campbell let out a sigh and sat down on his bed, taking his new book with him. Perhaps it would cheer him up, who knew what mister Cavafy wrote about?

He skipped to a random page and began reading the poem there:

This room, how well I know it.  
Now they’re renting it, and the one next to it,  
as offices. The whole house has become  
an office building for agents, businessmen, companies.

This room, how familiar it is.

The couch was here, near the door,  
a Turkish carpet in front of it.  
Close by, the shelf with two yellow vases.  
On the right—no, opposite—a wardrobe with a mirror.  
In the middle the table where he wrote,  
and the three big wicker chairs.  
Beside the window the bed  
where we made love so many times.

They must still be around somewhere, those old things.

Beside the window the bed;  
the afternoon sun used to touch half of it.

. . . One afternoon at four o’clock we separated  
for a week only. . . And then—  
that week became forever.

'How comforting', he thought and closed the book. A sense of loneliness crept in his mind, what if something like that happens to him? He couldn't bear the thought of a future without Lucian in it. When they were together, everything felt right, he felt whole, like he had found the missing piece from his soul.

All these nights when he was away, he thought of him, not daring to go to sleep in case he didn't see him, trying to find comfort in the memory of his touch, pretending that he was there next to him, keeping him safe, grounding him. 

Whenever they slept together in Lucian’s apartment, all his fears, of being outed to his friends and family, went away. Thatcher was but a mere boogie man in his mind that melted into a muddy pile like the wicked witch of the west every time he saw that glint in his lover's eyes and at the end of the day, all he had was love.

It felt beautiful, that feeling of desire for his sweetheart that kept him awake at night and dazed in the morning, thrilling even, one would suggest, that blend of adrenaline and passion tearing through his body, eating away his insights while also making him experience a mixture of euphoria in his body and fullness in his soul. He would give up anything in his world just to see his boyfriend smile at him without a second thought because nothing could replicate the emotions that flooded his heart when that happened.

Tomorrow it would rain the whole day, according to the nurses, so he couldn't go out for a walk with Fergus again. Eddie wouldn't come, since it was Sunday so he would spend the whole day alone. He struggled not to lose himself in the sea of melancholy since it would only make his situation worse. 

He laid down on the bed and closed his eyes, maybe, just maybe, tomorrow wouldn't be so bad...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! Kudos and comments keep me motivated and happy, as always English isn't my first language and constructive criticism is always welcome!!!  
> Love y'all 💘,  
> Seraphim 😇


End file.
